


Nightmare in Mayfair

by Tezca



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Crowley and Anathema Device are Friends (Good Omens), Gen, Humor, M/M, Pranks, Prequel, mention of murder from the in fic universe movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezca/pseuds/Tezca
Summary: Anathema and Crowley watch horror movies all day, Aziraphale proves he is a bastard worth knowing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is more or less a prequel to my previous fic [What's In A Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20103871) where the well known Good Omens fic Sacred and the Profane by Afrai is a movie. This fic runs with the movie concept more.

Today was perfect. Today, everything aligned to have everything cleared off for horror movie related bliss. And it happened all naturally; no demonic influence of any sort occurred. Newt was off visiting his mother in London and Aziraphale was off at some boring something, or another rare book auction. Both of those elements had led to Crowley suggesting the idea to Anathema. Now the two were at Crowley’s flat with a stack of movies and miracle’d up snacks and drinks in front of them.

“That movie was a load of bollocks,” Crowley criticized as the latest one they’ve watched finished. By now most of the day had passed by and it was now 10pm at night. Ample time really to watch some of the more disturbing selections.

Anathema who sat next to him on the couch nodded, “I agree, what was Robert Downey Jr’s reason to be in this? I mean I was creeped out at times but it feels like a mess at the same time. Ultimately it’s a ‘so bad it’s good’ deal. Certainly had outdated aspects of what makes a horror movie,” Anathema looked from the tv then to Crowley. 

“Hmm, especially when they have the killer be some predictable psychopath with mommy issues,” Crowley rolled his eyes and snapped the dvd out of existence, “Nothing will _ ever _get me to watch In Dreams again!” Crowley declared boisterously. Anathema meanwhile grabbed the first two of the remaining 3 while Crowley slouched back on the sofa.

Anathema turned to show Crowley the choices, “Do you want to watch A Quiet Place or Sacred and the Profane next?” She asked as Crowley took a look between the choices. 

“What’s Scared about? I heard David Tennant was in that one,” Crowley asked with genuine curiosity after a second passed. He may or may have not binge-watched the revived Doctor Who series after he realized how uncannily similar to him the Tenth Doctor looked. Nothing should be said against the power of curiosity.

Anathema couldn’t help but let loose a small giddy smile. That fact alone was the catalyst to finally checking out Doctor Who when David was announced to play the Time Lord, “Yes, he is! It’s about an angel and a demon who work together to prevent the Apoco…” Anathema face fell into confusion as her voice faded out. A weird sense of deja vu suddenly descended upon them, “...lyspe.” She took another look at the back of the dvd.

Crowley groaned and tilted his head back on the top of the sofa. The premise had hit a bit too close to home seeing how they just stopped an actual fucking apocolypse from being a thing.

“Isn’t that _ exactly _ what we’ve just bloody gone through?!” Crowley casually exclaimed, his eyes on the ceiling before turning them to fixate on Anathema.

A beat and Anathema let out a sigh, “Yes, but it is just a coincidence, I’m sure. I mean, this movie came out almost 15 years ago. Plus the character names are different.”

“So which one does David play, the demon or the angel?”

“Angel.”

A half sarcastic sound of relief followed, “Thank Someone for that _ huge _ difference,” Crowley rolled his eyes before he snapped yet another glass of wine, “And let me guess, Robert Downey Jr plays the demon? Would be a better antagonistic role for him than Vivian ‘My daddy is a dollar’ Thompson,” Crowley snarked.

Anathema laughed casually before she shook her head, “No, Michael Sheen plays the demon.”

That got Crowley to sit straight as he gave her a double take, dumbfounded, “Michael Sheen!? He plays the demon?!” He leaned back once again as he took a generous sip, “He looks too damn much like Aziraphale in the pic if you ask me,” He commented as he pointed to the cover art.

Another few seconds of silence passed between them. Anathema had an understanding countenance, “We can watch A Quiet Place if you prefer.”

“Nah I’m drunk enough to be curious,” Crowley admitted and snapped the dvd into the tv.

20 minutes in and it was clear that the two were regretting their life choices. They both were independently itching to suggest they switch to the other film. However, the adrenaline and the utter sense of realistic terror that In Dreams lacked several ways to Sunday kept them planted. 

And it didn’t help Crowley that the people who made this movie were close enough when it came to the feel and general look of Heaven and Hell, “Whoever convinced Michael to not have a beard in this is a bloody wanker!” Crowley at one point shouted at the screen. Without it the demon character looked a bit too similar to his husband for his taste.

Anathema was too enthralled all the same to reply. She steadily drank out of her half filled wine glass as she watched the events of the movie enfold. Eventually the glass was left on the table, the motion did not cause her gaze to break from the screen.

Same could be said for Crowley. Well mostly, he was encouraged to keep drinking. The demon character - Zirah - looked too unnervingly like Aziraphale. And the character was decidedly doing things Aziraphale will never ever do in a million years.

By the time they reached the scene Michael Sheen’s character walked into the covent with the Antichrist and walking stick in hand, both Crowley and Anathema were watching with wide-eyed terror. Nothing could break their attention from the horror as they were completely engrossed in the movie. 

They both had a dreadful, horrified feeling something was going to happen to the spare baby, but neither voiced that prediction. Mainly because the hold the movie had was that strong. Crowley didn’t move a muscle while Anathema was finishing off the last of her popcorn. 

Certainly didn’t help that the storyline seemed to mirror a tad too closely here and there so far to Crowley. The meeting in the cemetery, the look of the convent, it stirred up memories of how Armeggedon started and his role in it. Even the whole babyswap scene was reminiscent enough of the events. He had to remind himself that it was just a movie and nobody could’ve _ possibly _ aided the writers in some way. The timelines wouldn’t obviously match.

Ergo unless there was access to a time machine, it was impossible! Sure there was enough scenes that were different, but the ones that weren’t were unsettling to say the least. Crowley really wasn’t in the mood to face the prospect of nightmares.

The tension increased in the air, a palpable sense of horror surrounded the two. By now Anathema’s bowl of popcorn lay forgotten in her lap while Crowley was dead transfixed on the screen. Both were frozen in place. Cold sweat dropped down their forehead. Neither made any sound for the time being, aside from the loud heartbeats against their ribs. 

Suddenly the scene changed and the dead eerie vibe was broken, “_ Holy shit!” _ Anathema exclaimed in Spanish with an abrupt jump as she grabbed the couch. Meanwhile the bowl crashed down onto the floor, the popcorn flying out onto the pristine carpet. Neither really cared at the moment.

The Spanish continued as they were caught up in the atmosphere enough to not realize they’ve switched languages.

“_Oh fuck he did it! He fucking-he killed-he fucking killed the-he killed the spare baby!” _ Crowley simultaneously exclaimed as he jumped and grabbed Anathema's arm on impulse. He pointed dramatically at the screen, “ _ Michael Sheen has no excuse playing a psychopath that looks like my angel!” _

_ “They certainly did a top notch job on the...blood effects,” _Anathema’s voice quivered with fright.

“_This makes Vivian Thompson look like some-some…..oi I don’t know!” _ Crowley shouted frustratedly. He wasn’t sure where he was going exactly with the analogy, “ _ Both characters got issues up the wazoo but this movie was clearly thought out better!” _

_ “It’s the combination of the director and Michael Sheen that makes it work. If In Dreams was directed by Douglas MacKinnon then Robert’s character might’ve been played out similar,” _ Anathema hypothesized. 

The two quieted and neither really spoke until the credits rolled. Crowley had slowly grabbed the remote and turned off the tv. Crowley turned to Anathema and stammered for a second as he took a breath to calm himself. He swallowed, “I think that should conclude our movie marathon,” He was still obviously bothered by the events of the film.

Anathema nodded, “I agree. I probably should go anyways,” She stood up and grabbed her bag, “I told Newt I’ll be back at the hotel soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

Thankfully the next day should prove fruitful enough to be a distraction. He hoped at least. The movie didn’t help the quality of his sleep at all. Luckily he was a supernatural being, and as such, didn’t really  _ need _ to sleep. So most of the night was just him awake reminding himself over and over; 

_ Aziraphale is not Zirah. _

_ Aziraphale is not Zirah. _

_ Pretend Robert Downey Jr played Zirah. _

The last mantra obviously because Robert Downey Jr and Michael Sheen looked nothing alike. Thus, in theory, his brain wouldn’t associate the character with his angel, right? He added that to the shortlist after two hours of sleep proved to be a bad idea. He closed his eyes while he repeated the two lines. He wanted his mind to disassociate the demon character from his precious angel as quick as possible. The next five minutes would be bloody preferable.

Plus today he planned on going out to lunch with Aziraphale. Won’t do him a world of good if his mind kept involuntarily bringing up the character like an abrupt switch. He logically knew otherwise, but the mind is not bound to logic and objectively. They can trick one into seeing a different reality than the rest. Or in Crowley’s case at the moment, bring up an unwanted association with someone he loved.

He arrived at the bookshop a few minutes early. He snapped the doors opened and closed as if it were second nature. The angel should be out soon so he decided to hang around the front desk. He had his hands in his pockets as he glanced around, he guessed Aziraphale was probably still in the back room.

He was about to head there when he saw it. A cane. A seemingly innocuous wooden cane that leaned up against the front desk. Crowley froze in his tracks. His blood ran deathly cold as a sudden wave of terror ran up his spine. He was caught off guard enough to not register the sound of footsteps that headed his way.

“Hello dear,” Aziraphale suddenly greeted sweetly and Crowley let out a startled yelp as he took a few steps back. His arms unwilling failed about by his side.

“Angel!” Crowley panted to regain his breath, his hand over his chest. Aziraphale looked at him with concern and bemusement. Crowley pointed to the cane, “What is-why the hell is there a cane here?!” He cried out perhaps with more fright that what is entirely needed to keep a cool demeanor.

“Hmm? Oh a kindly old customer left it here on accident earlier,” Aziraphale dutifully answers as he took a glance at the stick then to Crowley. Crowley cussed out his mind for betrayal as images from the movie flashed at the forefront.

Didn’t help that Aziraphale picked up the cane and held it in front of him. Crowley impulsively took a step or two backward. He had a casual thoughtful expression. He looked at the cane for a second then at Crowley, “I very much want to give this back to him, shame the gentleman doesn’t come in here often enough. He must be worried sick if he needed this!”

Despite his muscles still being tensed up with anxiety and contorted fear, he managed to put together a coherent enough reply, “Well angel, uh, I-he probably didn’t need it as much as you think given he forgot it here,” He felt glad that any attempt of a stammer was low enough not to register.

Still, he should’ve known his luck by now. And if he did, he would’ve accounted for the chance Aziraphale would notice how nervous and jumpy he was right now. That and his attempt to hide any voice inflictions would be more of a failure than a success.

Which, of course, Aziraphale did.

“My dear are you alright?” He absentmindedly put the cane back down and rushed over, “You look like if something scared you witless!?” 

Crowley immediately waved his hand to dismiss it, “Nah I’m just really itching to try that new Thai place you suggested,” No one who has ever known Crowley for a good amount of time said he was good at lying. 

Aziraphale gave him a skeptical look but went on anyway. Unbeknownst to Crowley, the angel connected the dots. He had a good feeling why Crowley was acting strange right now. The demon was transparent, especially the day after he watched nothing but scary movies.

There were perks to being a little bit of a bastard, so he settled not to tell him. Not just yet anyway. Aziraphale’s face turned to happy go lucky with a bright smile, “Ah yes, I’ve been feeling peckish for the last hour.”

____________________________________

Anathema waited at the Lower Tadfield Cemetery. It was overcast which was a bit of a bonus. Would set the melocholony, creepy vibe better. And while this wasn’t the cemetery the movie filmed at, it was just a good as any. Any cemeteries can be creepy with the right look. Plus it wasn’t set in any populated areas so they should be alone.

Once Aziraphale arrived by bus - with a driver that’ll forget why he drove to Tadfield - Anathema got out, “Hey Aziraphale.”

“Hello my dear girl, do you got the camera?” Aziraphale asked. He had used a miracle before he left to change his clothes to the ones the demon character had on. Would be less conspicuous than if he did it when he arrived.

“Yep!” Anathema showed him her iPhone, “I figure we can record it on my phone, make it look like someone just randomly caught it on film. And then send it to Crowley.”

“Yes, but I think it’ll be better if it was sent anonymously,” Aziraphale suggested with a giddy laugh, “I don’t want to reveal it was all a ruse just yet. And how do I look?” He held out his arms so she can get a good look at the costume.

Anathema smiled and teased, “If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve guessed you were Michael Sheen filming the movie.”

Aziraphale let out a casual, satisfied laugh, “Splendid!”

Anathema smiled and the two headed into the area. Even though the area was already devoid of anyone else of the living, Aziraphale made sure by divine intervention that people will avoid this place for the time being.

“So what does the character do in the movie?” Aziraphale faced her while she set up the video camera on her phone. Unlike Anathema, Aziraphale has not seen the movie, “Does he walk around looking at the graves?”

Anathema paused for a second to recall the scene, “He walks up to a grave and he’s grieving but due to his insanity, it’s all unnervingly creepy at the same time.”

“I’m terribly not sure I’ll be able to pull that off as well as Mr. Sheen,” Aziraphale apologetically said with a mild worry in his voice. 

“Don’t worry about it,” She reassured him with a friendly smile. She held up her phone, “Alright go when you’re ready.”

Aziraphale nodded and gave himself a few seconds to ready himself before he walked off.

20 minutes later in their shared flat in Mayfair, Crowley threw his phone towards the nearest wall in sheer out of the blue terror. The phone - as expected - broke on impact. He backed up to the wall behind him and wouldn’t move for the next several minutes. 


	3. Chapter 3

Aziraphale could’ve left it at just one prank, but he felt extra devious ironically enough. So a few hours later - about a half hour or so until he returns home - he looked up instructions on how to create fake blood on his ancient computer - it was still running Window 98 somehow -. 

Sure he could just zap the cane ready to go but he was not in the mood to explain everything to Head Office. That would serve to just be a big plate of awkwardness. Especially when he was sure that nobody else Up There even knew what movies are. Plus he wanted to go for authenticity so to speak. Or close to it as he brought the ingredients to existences. 

Once finished, he put a generous amount on the top of the cane before flicked some onto his clothes. He was still wearing the costume from earlier so he wasn’t too upset about soiling something he wore. 

Meanwhile, Crowley was busy, or as busy as he can be yelling his plants. Several of them had apparently decided to rebel and create multiple spots on their leaves. Damn delinquents! They would have to be reprimanded again. So there he was, in the throes of his lecture of fear when a sudden click of the door broke his train of thought. 

He stood there for a second, then his face brightens up. Aziraphale must be here! He turned back his steely gaze back at the plants, “You’re  _ bloody _ lucky Aziraphale is here. I’ll give you green bastards another chance to fix yourself up! Or else its burn time!” Crowley yelled. He stayed for a couple of seconds to observe the plants tremble in fear before he finally turned and quickly walked out of the room.

Once he rounded the corner, the words he planned to say went out the window. He hastily froze in his tracks as he felt all possible warmth leave his body. It was replaced with an icy sensation that stubbornly stuck to him to the very core. In short, Crowley’s body completely blanched out.

Aziraphale stood in front of the door with specks of blood on his clothes and he held that bloody cane. And it was literally covered in blood too. Crowley didn’t realize he’d done it, but he backed up a step or two. His mind broken like a computer shorting up and rendered unusable. He might as just damn well discorporate as well.

“I’m so happy I’m finally home, you would not  _ believe _ the day I had. I was ever so busy!” They may not be the exact lines from the movie, but he knew Crowley. Easy to scare so Aziraphale figured that would work well enough without actually seeing it.

Crowley’s gaze followed Aziraphale as he turned around to prop the cane up against the door. He couldn’t get his mind to cooperate enough to put together a string of words. Instead, he bolted for the bedroom, locked the door and hid underneath the bed. 

What Crowley didn’t know was that the very second he left, Aziraphale broke all pretense and started laughing. Loud laughter that would clue anyone in that this was all a prank. He had to lean on one hand on the door as he held his side. He waited until he regained control again from his fit of giggles, which took a minute and a half. Now was the time to let Crowley in on the secret as any more would be overkill he felt.

First, however, he cleaned up the cane before he zapped it back to its rightful owner. Next, he changed out of his clothes to some tartan patterned PJs. He let himself have one more quiet laugh before he made his way over to the bedroom.

Aziraphale gently knocked on the door and turned the door. Only to find that he couldn’t. Easy to fix so a second later he was able to open the door, “Crowley?” He wasn’t on the bed but he had to be in here. He heard the door slam and plus he could sense his lover somewhere nearby, “Crowley where are you my dear? Oh, I do hope I hadn’t scared you witless too much. It was all a ruse.”

Aziraphale glanced around then proceeded to walk to the other side. Did Crowley turn into a snake and slithered to hard to reach spot in here? He wasn’t covered up with the sheets, in neither human or snake form. He didn’t have to look for too much longer since Crowley blew his cover with an undignified squawk.

“Wait...WHAT?!?” 

Aziraphale bends down on his knees and peered underneath, “Oh there you are Crowley.”

Crowley was silence with confusion until everything had sunk in. He immediately crawled out and stood up. He glared unamused at Aziraphale, “You mean to tell me it was all a  _ prank _ !?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but sport a smug, satisfied grin. He was very proud that he was able to get one on Crowley. Not once, but twice, “Yes. The cemetery video was one as well.”

“You were  _ this  _ close to discorporating me angel,” Crowley pinched two of his fingers together in Aziraphale’s face. Annoyingly enough, he still had that grin on his face. He had clasped his hands behind him, “Twice!”

“This has rather been a rousing success. I must tell Anathema that both of my pranks worked perfectly!” His grin turned to giddiness.

“Wh-what? You mean book girl was in on this too?!” Crowley’s voice was higher pitched with the same amount of disbelief in his voice.

“Yep. She kindly helped me out with the video. And what I did earlier was her idea as well.”

Crowley groaned as he ran his hands through his face. This could only mean one course of action to take now; payback. 

Which led him to a bucket full of “holy” water - which really was just plain old tap water - the next night. The fact Aziraphale was sitting on the sofa brought a sense of dramatic irony for him seeing that’s where the demon character was eventually killed.

But, thankfully, this was not a movie. In reality, this was simple retaliation for that bastard’s pranks. He does admit they were rather clever, but he was the target! He can’t stand by doing nothing when that was the case. He was driven by a need to take a chance of sweet, harmless, payback.

So he carried the bucket and quietly teleported to behind the sofa. Aziraphale was lost reading, had no clue what was about to take place.

“Hey Aziraphale want to know what happens at the end of the movie?” Crowley asked, he merely only did that to catch his attention. As soon as Aziraphale looked around, he threw the watery contents of the bucket over his head. 

Aziraphale immediately sputtered out water and stood up. He shot the demon a withering gaze. Crowley was, of course, laughing his ass off. 

“What in the world was that for Crowley?!” Aziraphale demanded. Crowley kept up the loud, raucous laughter.

“Payback angel!” He replied as soon as he regained just enough of his breath.

It took a second for Aziraphale to register his reply. His face softened after he recalled the previous day’s events, “Oh I suppose I did deserve that. Now we’re, how do you say, even.”

Crowley took a breath as the laughter faded away into a soft smile, “Yeah. We’re even.”


End file.
